Pulse
by EphemeralSakura
Summary: He knows she wakes up every night to see if he's alive. He can feel her touch and her fears, and even if he knows there isn't much he can do, he will still offer her all the comfort he can give her right now. [ SasuSaku One-Shot ; Canonverse]


a/n: FINALLY! Ahh! It's been so long since I last wrote something! College this semester killed me, and when my computer broke, I just wanted to cry (I've lost a bunch of fics there, you guys… I'm still trying to recover my HD, though). Well, but now everything will go back to normal. This one is a small one that I wrote a couple of months ago, and I personally love this one. I like to write about this kind of things, and even if I feel a bad about the characters, I think it's important for these kind of things to be explored. I like to explore them, at least. I'm gonna shut my mouth now and leave you guys to it! Hope you enjoy it, and please, tell me what you think! It's good to be back!

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It's been two weeks since she first started touching him at night.

Emotionless, meticulous and precise, their skin brush against one another every night after the clock strikes 3 am. It's a new, peculiar habit of his wife that has been repeating itself every dawn for the past 14 days, and even if at first he didn't really care about it, things eventually started to lose control. It's not a simple, accidental touch caused by her body shifting at night, and it's not something meaningless, for he can clearly feel the way she relaxes after doing so.

There's something odd going on with her, and the fact that she won't tell him a thing only makes him even more worried. Sakura is a stubborn woman, and after everything they've gone through, Sasuke knows better than to simply ignore her silent secrets.

The whole thing starts with the weight of her body shifting under the mattress, and the sound of the covers sliding through her body. Her breathing also changes, growing heavier, and an almost imperceptible, warm breeze tickles his lips, indicating that her face is now turned to his. Moments after that— after she's kept herself quiet for a little too long— he feels her soft palm sliding across his arm, stopping as she reaches the heels of his hand.

It feels warm and soothing. It feels nice for him, but he knows that there's nothing nice about the way his wife is acting.

Her two fingers, then, press against his wrist, and he soon feels his pulse against her digitals. It feels as if she's checking his heartbeats, just to make sure he's still alive and sleeping safely, and it's only after she confirms it that she can allow herself to go back to sleep.

It's a strange habit that, at first, he mistook as a one-night thing that would eventually disappear within the passing days. At first, it appeared to be something simple, but eventually, Sasuke realized that his wife was doing all that because she actually is afraid. She's afraid of her past like she has been a couple of times before, and since he knows her like the back of his hand, he doesn't need his eyes to identify her silent anxiety attacks kicking in once again.

Perks of being a ninja, he thinks. A ninja— as he knows— who has been faking smiles and dressing in thorns every day for past couple of years simply for coming back alive from the hell where many of her comrades didn't return.

Sakura will never forgive herself for that. Even if everyone tells her that she can't save the entire world, as the medic ninja she is, she can't simply accept that. She never will, and there's nothing he or anyone can do about it.

It's _her_ trauma. Her regrets and her failures.

And even if he doesn't like to see his wife fighting her own demons alone, as her husband and as a ninja himself, he knows that there isn't much he can do to help.

He doesn't understand why she does that, and to be honest, he doesn't really need to understand something she possibly doesn't understand either. These things, Sasuke knows, don't always have a logical explanation behind them. They simply exist, haunting and cursing those who have gone through hell and back, and will forever have to live with the constant fear of being trapped in that traumatic reality.

Sakura is being haunted by her own demons now and she's the only one who holds the power to seal them in the depths of her heart.

He can't fight them for her. He can't win her battles and he can't save her this time.

But he can be there for her, just like she's always been there for him.

And so, tonight, when her warm breath finally brushes his cheeks, the male Uchiha finally does what he has been craving to do for a long time now. His eyes snap open, blending in with the darkness of the room, and in a quick move, he's already holding her wrist, preventing it from touching him. No words escape his lips, as he simply looks at her, taking in every information offered by her body as he's silently asking her to let him help.

He looks at her in search of the answers she needs to go back to sleep.

And right now, the only answer he finds is that Uchiha Sakura is afraid.

" Sakura. What are you doing?"

As he holds her wrist, he can feel the way she's trembling under his touch, and her curled up body doesn't go unnoticed by his observant eyes. Her lips are slightly parted in a surprised expression, and her eyes— _oh_, those beautiful, fearless emerald eyes— are widened in pure horror, with tears threatening to fall from their sides. Thanks to the dim light that enters their room from the streets, her orbs look darker than they normally are, and there's no hopeful light or shining confidence coming from them right now.

His wife is horrified, but as the seconds go by and she shifts her gaze away from his, Sasuke also notices that, apart from all the fears ruining her perfect image right now, Sakura is also ashamed.

Ashamed of looking like a little girl afraid of the dark, and ashamed of harboring something so ridiculous and illogical as her husband lying dead on the cold, dirty ground of the battlefield. She bites her lower lip until a metallic taste lingers over her tongue, and immediately after she frees herself from his grip, she turns away from him in an attempt to hide herself from her own, condemning thoughts. Her arms are wrapped around herself now, and even if her entire body seems to be falling apart, she manages to find strength to mutter some words.

" It's nothing… It was just a nightmare."

" It doesn't seem like nothing."

" Don't worry about it, okay? Sorry to wake you up, Sasuke-kun. Go back to sleep."

" Oi, don't you—"

" Go back to sleep, Sasuke-kun!… Please."

He listens to the way she's heavily breathing through her mouth, and he can see the way her nails are digging into the skin of her arms. The pinkette is losing it, and he knows that he has to do something before she hurts herself even more. Even if she doesn't want his help and even if he doesn't really think it will solve her problems, Sasuke knows he has to try, at least.

He can't just watch as she silently destroys herself.

He can't simply watch his wife suffering and go back to sleep as if nothing is happening in front of him.

No. He won't leave her alone. He won't go back to sleep.

After making up his mind, the male Uchiha simply allows himself to do what he judges to be the right thing. In a soft, protective move, Sasuke encircles her waist with his arm, pulling her closer against his chest and making sure to keep her there no matter how hard she tries to free herself. This is not something he's used to and it's certainly not something he does frequently, but right now he believes it will be the best thing he can do to help the the woman he loves.

" W-What are you doing?! Stop it, Sasuke!"

Just like when he was little— when the world was still innocent and his life wasn't still fucked up by revenge— and he wanted someone to comfort him when the nights were too long; Sasuke wraps her in his arms, as if to assure her that, no matter what, he's here.

_He is here._ He's here and will always be; and no matter what's going on in her mind right now- and no matter how she's trying to push him away- he won't let anything hurt her.

Not even her own thoughts. Not even herself.

" I'm alive." He whispers against the shell of her ear, his hot breath tickling her nape, and immediately, he feels her body stiffening under his touch. Sakura stops struggling, choosing, instead, to remain silent and wait for him to finish his speech. She needs to hear his words more than ever now for they are her only connection to the reality she needs. She needs to hear his voice, and as she grips his hand tightly, her husband knows exactly what to say. " You've saved me, Sakura. There's no blood anymore. Thanks to you, we're alive."

He doesn't say things like _'things will be better_' or ' _you've done all you could_' because he knows this won't help her. In fact, these are the kind of promises his wife doesn't need right now for she knows things _won't_ get better— they never truly do— and she knows she could've done more. She should have given up her life for the others, for fuck's sake! Sakura acknowledges her mistakes and right now, she doesn't need to be reminded of them.

Right now, she needs to feel safe. And the truth is the only thing he can offer her.

After what felt like an eternity of uncertainty, he finally feels her body relaxing and a warm, salty drop falls on his arm. She shifts so her face is now buried in his chest, and it's only when she lets out a deep, suffocated sigh that he finally relaxes with her. He feels her hot breath against him now and his hand on her back follows the calm rhythm of her ribcage going up and down. Her lavender scent invades his nostrils, and he adjusts his chin over her head so he can hold her closer.

This is _it_, he knows. This is the best thing he can do for her right now.

He can be with her and take care of her while she takes care of the things that are out of his reach. Right now, he needs to provide her support while she fights her own battles, and more than ever, he will have to believe in her strength.

More than anyone, Sasuke knows his wife is a strong woman, and one day— because it won't be today and probably not tomorrow either— she won't need his silence, his pulse or his arms, and she will get over her trauma.

One day she, will be able to sleep again.

And when that day comes, he will be there.

_fin._


End file.
